Enigmatic Prince
by VermillionPrincess
Summary: He ran away from everything. Arthur didn't want the responsiblity of a king especially when he finds Alfred, an orphan with a burning hate for royalty. Arthur hopes to keep the truth from Alfred but can he when the past tries to take him back.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hullo old and new readers~ I've reposted this so that the reviews I got for the last don't get counted for this. I would have posted this earlier but I went on a short holiday and cut one of my fingers and hurt my hand on smashed glass so stuck to using my iPod rather than computer 8C**

**This story will contain: -Eventual USUK (along with UKUS obviously.) -Some other pairings -Alternate universe - I explained it in the last story, set in the past with a couple of modern inventions for convenience. In this AU, Britain is a mega big empire that's taking over the world and stuff C8 I'll explain it more in later chapters... and -probably a lot of other stuff that will pop up in the future! **

**Onwards!**

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><p>Arthur looked through the window of his chambers. The rose bushes in the garden beneath stretched on far, only the ancient tall stone wall at the very end blocked it from going any further. The gorgeous red of the flowers couldn't be seen as it was fairly late at night and a gorgeous blanket of newly fallen snow covered the vast majority of the bushes. The snow sparked like glitter had been sprinkled across each little flake that had fallen. He raised his hand to the glass longingly, the cold from the winter night outside making his palm and fingers turn cold. His lips pulled down into a grimace, Arthur was sick of his life here in the castle. His father didn't care about him or Peter, only how his growing kingdom will turn out and who out of he and his younger brother would be most fit to rule it. Blonde lashes covered green eyes as a small sigh left his parted lips, the young prince turned around, and then let his hand leave the glass before walking over to the four poster bed that was by the window he had been standing at.<p>

He dropped into the soft fabric covers that creased around his weight and dipped underneath him. The blonde stared up at the white ceiling in thought. Of course, he had planned all he could think have but now that the time was near... He was scared that something had been forgotten in his plan, a nagging in the back of his mind trying to say what but the voice was too quiet to be able to hear. The prince's frown deepened before turning his head slightly to the right and allowing his eyes to open slightly. A bag sat by the side of the door, the Brit sat up and dangled his feet over the side of the bed before standing up and walking over to it.

He kneeled before it and stroked the top; it was a rough fabric, not as fancy as everything else but it would do to get some items from the castle without having to carry it in his arms. The blonde turned the bag over looking for the dirty white strap, when it was found he grabbed it before slinging the bag over his shoulder and onto the bed without batting an eye. The bag bounced off the headboard with a thump and fell into the velvety bed covers, he then stood back up and walked back over to the bed before flopping down at the side of the bag. There was one thing in his plan that was worrying him immensely, would he be able to get out unnoticed? The gates were guarded by some of his father's best guards so that no party crashers got in without an invitation. This would make it hard as the guards knew each member of his family's face. Arthur didn't want to risk it by plotting with one of the staff here; they hadn't done him any wrong so he certainly didn't want anyone to take the blame for him.

There was always the backdoor through the large kitchen, the head chef Yao had always liked him, so he was always nice to talk to and they got along like good friends, which made it possible that he would let him out without telling his parents. Arthur shook his head whilst scowling and pulled his bare legs up to his chest and started rubbing a circle into his knee. He couldn't risk Yao getting into trouble for himself; he would have to make sure he escaped without anyone else knowing. Of course, first things first were him to get dressed. The winter nights are harsh and going out in only a short night gown and a pair of socks would be like catching death. He sat up from the bed again and stood. He walked over to his mahogany wardrobe and pulled open the doors, but keeping hold of the wooden knobs on each door as he looked at the pieces his wardrobe had to offer.

The wooden piece was brimming with so many different colours, from pastel greens to crimson reds, each piece and colour as unique as the one before. His green eyes scanned over each piece carefully going through in his head whether to wear it or not. He finally stopped on an indigo waistcoat. He pulled the metal coat hanger out and threw the piece on his bed as he continued his search in the wooden confines to find another piece that would match it. A white long sleeved shirt and ribbon were also added to the clothes on his bed along with a pair of tan pants that was thrown onto the haphazard pile followed by a purple coat that had been folded neatly at the bottom along with other coats and jackets of varying colour and pattern.

He kneeled down and opened the small drawers at the bottom of the wardrobe and pulled a fresh pair of underwear and socks out before throwing them onto the pile on his bed. Arthur stood back to his full size and looking around his room again. His eyes stopped on the white vanity that had belonged to his sister that has passed on. The vanity was white much like the rest of the room and had a lamp by the mirror that was attached, but that isn't what he was interested in. He sauntered over to the vanity and picked up the small blue top hat with a headband attached to stop it from falling off.

Arthur looked at the other contents of the vanity before picking the hat up and throwing it backwards so that it would land on the growing clothes pile without turning away. The blonde opened one of the drawers and fumbled around inside for a moment before his hand felt a cold metal surface. He grabbed the chain attached to the top and pulled out the brass pocket watch, a small tick coming from it as the second hand slowly moved. He clapped the piece shut and held the still ticking watch to his heart. Arthur closed the still open drawer shut with a small bang before moving back to the clothes pile on the bed. The pocket watch was carefully placed to the side of the messy pile; Arthur stared at the mess whilst scowling. He really shouldn't have just thrown them; he knew he'd regret it when he felt he looked bad when they were all creased. With a sigh he undid the top buttons of the short white nightgown before the piece fell to the ground in a bunch around his ankles; he was completely bare apart from a pair of socks.

The cold hit his pale skin like a train causing shivers to course down his spine, he rubbed his forearms with his palms in a futile attempt to warm them up slightly before looking at the pile on the bed again. A piece of white stuck out from the purples and blues, he stopped his arm rubbing to quickly pluck the piece out and lay it a further away from the other pieces of clothing. A pair of boxers soon followed after that he quickly put on so that his lower parts didn't get any colder. Arthur sorted each piece out so that they were each spread out amongst the bed and looked at each piece contemplatively. Where does he start? He was so used to the maids dressing him that he had generally forgotten how to do it himself.

Arthur decided that the shirt would be a good place to start; the blonde pulled his arms through the holes and started on the clear plastic buttons, popping each one in their small slit until he reached the top button. He straightened out the collar and pulled at the ends of his shirt to straighten them out. The tan pants came next; he tucked his white shirt into the waist of the pants and dusted himself off slightly. Each piece of the clothing was done up with care, the waistcoat had to be done several times as Arthur didn't quite understand how it was meant to be fastened. The male picked up the two last remaining pieces and ambled back over to the white vanity. He pulled out the matching white wooden chair and sat in it before staring directly into the mirror. Green eyes upon pale skin, a messy head of sandy blonde and a scowl stared back at him. The chandelier hanging from the roof illuminated his skin making it looks slightly paler. He turned his head around looking at each angle before trying to pull the brush that was sitting on the edge of the wooden top through his hair, which he ultimately didn't manage to finish.

He put the brush back down with a little more force than necessary and stared back into the mirror. His scowl had deepened and his eyes had turned into a glare slightly from the annoyance of not being able to brush his hair. The pocket watch that he had put down on the wooden top when he had came over was put in the pocket of his coat and the small top hat and headband were put on, the hat tilted to the left slightly. He stared into his reflection, was he doing the right thing by running away? His father would always come after him. After all of his older sibling's deaths his father has been doing all in his power to make sure that Arthur doesn't end up dead or missing like the ones who came before him.

Although his father doesn't want him dead, it doesn't mean he loves him. His father is cold and strict; he showed no love to his two remaining sons, he only shouted and isolated himself from them. The only time he had ever talked to them was when telling them off or giving instructions. He had never congratulated them on birthdays or got together with them on the holidays. His step mother is no better, she married for money and power and she shows the son that actually is hers no love either. Arthur's scowl turned into a melancholic smile as he carried on staring into his reflection, his overly large eyebrows furrowed together in sadness. Of course, his mother Alice had been a lovely woman. She had loved each and every one of her children with enough love to account for herself and father. It had truly changed Arthur when she had passed on. So was he doing right? By leaving behind everything he's had up until this point because he fears for the future to go and start anew? Arthur hoped that he was doing right because he refused to turn back after coming so far. Arthur turned away from his reflection and looked over his shoulder to his spacious room again, probably the last time he'll (hopefully) see it in his life.

The crimson red and white colour scheme, the antique chaise lounge in front of the roaring fireplace that had always smelled like herbs and not an actual fire, the beautiful view of the rose gardens below. Arthur will miss them all because they held so many memories from when he was still a babe until this point right now. With a sigh he stood from the white wooden chair and went to pick up the bag that was still resting in front of the headboard of his bed. He picked it up by the strap and slung it over his shoulder. Now that his plan had actually started he would have to start being less noisy and more stealthy. The Briton moved over to the door of his bedroom, he opened the door and poked his head out into the hallways decorated in rich reds and walls that were lined with portrait upon portrait of past Kirkland family members.

The hallways seemed void of all life, so he quickly flicked off the light switch of his bedroom and moved out into the long hallway. He looked from side to side fearing that one of the maids, or his father or stepmother would suddenly come around a corner. Arthur slowly tiptoed down the long hallway, avoiding the potted plants and priceless vases that lined the many doors. His feet moved slowly over the red rug, his pace was picking up slightly. Any moment now he knew one of the many doors would swing open and a familiar face would catch him. Then it hit him. Arthur stopped abruptly and growled in irritation. Of course no one would come down here, all the maids were at the party serving guests, his father and mother were socialising with guests and Peter was well... Somewhere, but wouldn't be able to do much trouble. The blonde then began moving, this time at a leisurely pace. He didn't need to worry about getting caught as there was no one up stairs to catch him. Arthur reached the empty stair case and stared down it at the bottom.

A quiet sound of chattering and music could be heard coming from a far part of the house; he was at the furthest stair case from the ballroom so he wouldn't bump into anyone. The blonde grabbed a hold of the golden banister of the staircase. He took each stair one at a time, his boots quietly clicking against the marble. Once at the bottom he looked again from left to right before taking the right corridor. The downstairs was most decorate in a pure white, paintings of landscapes and the occasional small light for one to find their way in the dark decorated the walls. The floor was in white polished porcelain, as he swiftly moved down it towards the kitchens at the ends his boots clicked against them noisily. The adrenaline that was pumping in him making his feet pick up in pace as a small smile tugged at his lips.

Barely any doors where on the bottom floor, just the odd bathroom. The door to the kitchen was closed and no noise was coming from within, this was a good sign. He looked from side to side, the end of the corridor split off into another T-shaped set of corridors. Believe it or not, Arthur had barely taken the time to explore the large castle in all of his 15 years. The large metal kitchen doors were directly in front of him, in the middle of the other two corridors. He walked directly up to the metal doors and with a hard push, the two doors opened. He flicked the light switch upwards and a flurry of light filled the room, making the metallic surfaces glisten ever so slightly. Arthur carefully walked through the aisles of metal surfaces, the room was barely colourful as the walls were a slightly darkened white, the metal surfaces a shiny silver colour and the tiles were beige and like the tops of the surfaces were reflecting him ever so slightly. The small brown heels of his boots were clicking and clacking noisily again, if anyone was close by it would have been heard.

Arthur could only hope that nobody actually had strayed from the dance hall and were close by. He stopped in front of another set of metal doors, two lever handle locks on both of the doors. They were the same as the doors he had used to get in but had a chair pushed underneath as an extra security measure, the doors could be opened both inwards and outwards. The cooks didn't want the blame for someone breaking in through the kitchen so they had put it there. The prince pulled the wooden chair from underneath the handles, the wooden hind legs squeaked slightly as they were pulled from under the door. He placed the chair in front of the sink near the door. The blonde grabbed onto the metal handles and pulled them down slowly. After hearing the locks slide out of place he pulled the handles down with more force than he had originally been using. The Brit pushed the doors open as a cold gust of wind blew into his face making the blonde wince and face away slightly before cracking an eye lid open. The wind was whistling outside making cold air gush and the few leaves showing on the trees outside shake slightly.

The moon was higher in the sky than it had been when looking out of his window back in his room. Arthur frowned and drew his eyebrows together in confusion; _did I really take a long time to get down here?_ He thought contemplatively. The short male leaned to the side of the door and swiped his hand across the wall without taking his eyes from the view outside of the doors. He eventually felt a light switch, he didn't want it to look like someone had been in recently so he had to make sure to cover up any evidence; the doors to the kitchen had already been closed after he had gone through them. He pressed the switch and the light changed to darkness, only the shine of the clear waning moon hanging loosely in the sky. He put his first foot out and onto the iced over stairs. He quickly looked down to his feet as to avoid slipping on the wet ice. He put the other foot out and let go of the handles as he gently pushed the door closed slightly so that it would close the rest of the way on its own.

He took confident steps across the ice, not letting his eyes stray from his brown boots as he carried on moving onwards, not even as he went down the stairs did they leave. His feet came to a stop at the bottom of the concrete staircase; he looked from side to side. Arthur had barely ever been in the garden so he didn't know which way would lead to the front. The only times he had looked at the garden was to see the rose gardens and the moon at night. He chose to go right, walking past the bow windows that were either dark or had the cream curtains pulled together. He turned around the corner of the castle and walked straight up the wide pathway that was lined with stone benches and box trees.

A couple of inebriated people who came to his father's party sat on the benches in a happy buzz. The sound of faint music and chatter was growing louder as he got closer to the front. He couldn't go through the front gates... So where else? Arthur sat down on the bench closest to him which didn't have anyone sitting on. Of course, Arthur hadn't always been a shut in and when he had siblings they were never a friendly group, faint memories of being chased around a garden when he was only five, in a white ruffled long hand me down t-shirt from his eldest sister who had turned eight and no shoes. Being chased by his red head older brother and sister, he could remember begging them to leave him alone. They obviously wouldn't comply. So over time he had found little hiding places and learnt to climb trees. His favourite being the tall willow tree; it had been the hardest to climb (a challenge was always fun) because when the top was reached, the ledge of the stone wall was within a lucky jumping distance. He'd always sat with his knees to his chest atop the tall stone staring out at the mass row upon row of houses until the sky turned a lovely canvas of red, purples, oranges and wispy white clouds.

The blonde scowled in annoyance, he would have to walk all the way back around and it's already taken him so long to get to this point. His father would be alerted of his absence if he doesn't make hurry. With a feverish haste, the green eyed boy stood and turned back towards the direction he had came from, this time ignoring his surroundings. He stood before the brown trunk, the dormant tree not providing the canopy of leaves it would in summer. Arthur stared up at the far branches before looking back at the trunk.

A footing would be hard to find in the dark but if he tries to go by his memories from childhood there's a chance he could make it. As a child he had been able to climb the tree as if by instinct so he could hope that it hadn't gone in his time of staying indoors. He thought back to his childhood days as he grabbed around the thick wood. He thought back to climbing it as a child whilst his body moved on autopilot, bringing his feet up to the right places and hand shuffling upwards and grabbing a hold of the wood as he climbed further. The willow hadn't changed at all since he had first climbed it as an infant, albeit a probably a little taller. He climbed until he could see the snow covered roofs of several houses which shook him from his memory and bringing his body out of unconscious climbing to conscious. He scrambled up a little faster before finding a sturdy enough branch that would be able to hold his weight as he slid across it to the wall.

Arthur didn't think he would be able to make the jump so he could only hope fate was with him. He slid onto the branch backwards, not caring about his clothes. The branch dipped slightly when he first got on and carried on dipping further as he got closer to the thinner end. It didn't break through as the blonde grabbed a hold of the edge of the stone wall as he jumped from the branch to the wall and landing half on half off of it. His brown boots were probably scuffed and his blue pants ripped a little but he didn't care anymore. As he pulled himself fully on and into a sitting position he held the bag tighter as he looked down.

A slightly snow covered cobble path wasn't too far down, the fall looked like it would hurt a little but Arthur was ready to take that risk. He gulped slightly and stared down at the path with disdain as if daring it to hurt him when he jumps on it. The blonde put his hands onto the worn down edges of the ivy covered stone wall preparing to push all of his weight from it. With another look down and a hard push he jumped from the perch and began falling to the wet stone floor. His arms were up in the air as he fell flailing as if he was trying to fly like a bird, the bag on his shoulder pulling down like a heavy weight. He landed on one knee but the adrenaline pulsing didn't make the pain come.

He immediately stood back up and looked from side to side in case anyone had seen him whilst dusting his knees off and patting his hind to make the slight numbness in it go away. He smiled to himself happily, had he not been trying to be quiet then a little victory dance probably would have been performed in the middle of the empty street. He crossed the road to the large houses on the other side as the snow flurried down beside him again, landing in small piles on his clothes. When at the other side he ignored the well decorated large houses, instead trying to seek out the path that lead down to the other rows of houses that shrunk in size the further one travelled down.

The path was actually miles long and the lowest of the low (criminals, the poorest people etc) lived right on the very last row. Of course, as a high in society person, Arthur didn't want to go that far back. Just to the middle class would do him fine. He turned the corner and looked down the long winding path, only the light of the few lampposts that lined it illuminating the pathway that had a blanket of snow, the many foot prints in it from people travelling to the castle for the party. The prince turned to look back at the lit up castle, his heart was tugging as the few happy memories he had left came to mind. He turned back to the endless path and took off into a sprint, the heavy bag slapping against the small of his back and his thigh painfully as the memories were left behind to live in the castle hopefully, forever.

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><p><strong>If you made it this far I applaud you. Sorry for it being long and nothing really happening --**

**How was it and stuff... –Blushblush-**

**In other news, I'm going to start a new story, Window of life is on a temporary hiatus because honestly, I've run out of plot (I'm shitting you, there was no plot.) for it and I was originally just pulling what happened in it before out of my arse. **

**Long chapters? Definitely! The next chapter will be out when I get my laptop next month on my birthday (ME AND SEALAND HAVE THE SAME BIRTHDAY! –FIST PUMP!-) Also, my mum has offered to beta or whatever this for me but I'm mega too embarrassed to send her the chapter for checking so if anything's wrong – I'M SORRY. Until next time... I hope.**


	2. Chapter 2

"You big idiot!"

"-ng the water!"

"Okay, who drank the last bit of milk!"

Alfred blearily pulled his face out from the soft pillow, the shouts downstairs waking him from his good dream. He rolled over to his side, facing the wall, pulling the covering his head with the quilt and curling into a tight ball. The hard springs of the mattress were sticking into his side painfully, he cared more about trying to get back to sleep than comfort though. The shouting voices below weren't helping with that.

"Gilbert! Don't let that thing in here!"

"-y and stop me Liz!"

The American curled further into himself and groaned aloud. Why were people so noisy this early in the morning? The sun wasn't even shining through the curtains yet. The sound of metal smacking something hard rang throughout the house and then the door being slammed made the floor shake momentarily. The boy let out a sigh of relief after a few moments of silence, finally uncurling himself and laying down comfortably. The thin covers barely keeping him warm but he was too tired to really care right now. The blonde started relaxing and could feel himself falling further into the abyss of sle-. Loud music began thumping through the house and vibrating in his ears. Gilbert could be heard singing along to whatever was being played. Alfred growled angrily before throwing the covers back. There was no light at all in the room and his eyes weren't adjusting to it at all. He blearily leaned over to the small wooden nightstand by his bed and rummaged around for his glasses, several food wrappers fell to the floor silently before his hand collided with the glass lenses of the piece. He grabbed them before rubbing his eyes and then putting them on the bridge of his nose. The American let out a long yawn before standing up from his bed and walking to the open door at the other side of the room. The tall blonde stretched, his hands just barely touching the low dirty ceiling of the hallway and his ripped white bed shirt riding up his stomach and showing off his tanned abdomen. His arms fell back to his sides before he walked blearily towards the stairs, he passed by several shut doors along the way but by the sounds of it he was the last one awake. It was too early in the morning to be having music on full blast. It was a surprise that the neighbours hadn't reported them for how regular an occurrence the loud music and arguments were. Alfred was too poor to have a house to himself so opted to stay with a group. Prices were steadily rising on everything and the rag tag 'family' would soon have to let more in if they don't want to be out on their arses. The further he got down the stairs the louder the music and Elizabeta's shouting was. If America hadn't been taken over and turned into a place for the rich then Alfred would still be there, living with his parents and brother in their small quaint farm down south. His lips tugged up tiredly at the memory as he carried on shuffling down the stairs. His parents had been split from them both in all the action, so there was a good chance they were out there still. Looking for them.  
>If anything, Alfred wasn't a downer. He liked to stay positive and in these tough times that was a positive trait. The American reached the bottom of the stairs and looked over the banister to the open kitchen door. The ratty hard carpet hurting his feet, he walked with haste over to the tiled kitchen. The music was a lot louder in there, behind the wooden door was the dirty old cooker that Matthew was stood at cooking, the room was small so the large oak table in the middle made it seem all the more smaller. Gilbert, Francis and Antonio sat with their backs to him, probably talking. He wasn't sure. Alfred walked to the side of Matthew; on the wooden worktop was a large stereo that was plugged into the same double plug socket as the stove. He flicked the switch off, the music dying down a moment later.<p>

"Hey what are you doing! I was listening to that!" Gilbert shouted and turned around to meet Alfred's tired blue eyes.

"Whilst your blasting your 'tunes' Gilbert, some people are trying to sleep. Myself and the neighbours being some of them." Alfred broke eye contact with Gilbert and looked back towards the tiled wall. He pushed his glasses up slightly so that he could rub the sleep from his eyes. He should already be used to this; after all it was a regular occurrence. The blonde requested a slice of buttery toast from Matthew before going over to the other side of the oak table and sitting down in one of the chairs. It creaked under his weight after all the years of usage it's had. Gilbert attempted to make conversation, before he got the idea that the American was too tired to talk. Alfred had his head in his hands trying to fight off the sleep that was trying to come. Matthew put a plate with two slices of toast on making Alfred look up. The shy boy smiled slightly before walking back over to the oven, Gilbert quickly shooting the Canadian's arse a look. The tan boy ate his toast in small bites for once. The spitting of the fat in the pan of whatever Matthew was making distracting him from his thoughts. The door to the living room squeaked on its hinges as Lilli opened it, she looked at the people in the kitchen before walking over to the boy still stood in front of the cooker.

"Matthew, big brother wants to know if you could give him some of the fry up when you're done with it." She asked in a quiet voice, the girl was looking to the side slightly. She still wasn't used to living with so many people even though she has been for just over two years now. Lilli had lived with her big brother in Switzerland until being forced out which put her where she was now.

Matthew smiled at her before patting her head, startling the smaller girl. "Of course I will Lilli. I was going to anyway." The wavy blonde haired boy said with a blush. It was well known to everyone in the house apart from Lilli herself that Matthew had the smallest crush on her. Vash, Lilli's older brother, was okay with it as he knew how good a man Matthew was and that he would treat her well.

The petite girl smiled at him and nodded politely before turning and leaving the room back through the door, her overly large dress trailing slightly behind her. The Canadian carried on looking towards the now closed door, a dreamy smile on his lips and a fading blush on his cheeks. Antonio and Francis had a knowing smile, whilst Gilbert looked down to the dull table top, his silver bangs shadowing his eyes.

Alfred licked his dirty fingers free of the sticky butter before walking back over to Matthew and grabbing the milk carton to his side. He pulled off the plastic lid before bringing it up to his lips. A few tentative moments later he pulled it back, shaking it slightly to hear it had been empty all along. With a sigh he put it back down and started to walk back to the door to the hallways before he felt someone pulling on the back of his night shirt.

"The milkman will be here in ten minutes or so. Take some money out of the jar and go buy some, but don't drink it all like last time." Alfred shivered at the memory of what had happened last time he had drank all the milk. He didn't want to know what Matthew would use as a weapon against him this time since last time he had knocked him clean out by slapping him with a spatula.

With a nod he awkwardly shuffled behind the chairs to the cupboard that was hanging off the hinges and looked like it could fall at any moment. He stuck his hand inside, a small leak in the sink dripping onto his forearm whilst he awkwardly groped around in the cupboard trying to find the glass jar. By the time he did find it, his full forearm was soaking wet, making the blonde hairs on his arms stick to tan skin and become almost invisible. He put the heavy glass jar down onto the long wooden worktop before unscrewing the lid and sticking his hand inside.

"Matthew! Alfred's stealing from the jar again." Both Alfred and Matthew turned around to face the albino who was pointing to Alfred with a look of fake shock. The albino had watched the two of them and felt a little offended that the younger twin hadn't asked him to go and get the milk. He was trying to subtly hint to the boy that he wanted to go. Gilbert didn't know why but he often acted different around the Canadian without noticing it. He was shyer than usual, not as straight forward or loud. He would have never noticed if Francis hadn't approached him about it.

The Canadian sighed before he answered. "I know Gilbert; he's going to buy some milk since no one else bothered to." He said tiredly. The German boys face turned from mock horror to shock, "well maybe if you had asked me to then I would have. Fat boy over there's going to end up drinking all of it. Again." Gilbert's voice had risen, he looked truthfully offended. The self-proclaimed awesome albino never got offended at anyone, if he was ever insulted then he would retort by childishly telling them he was the best and they were probably talking about themselves. He only ever got this way around Matthew, the Canadian had also noticed this but just brushed it off as Gilbert maturing somewhat. The German boy stood from his chair abruptly making Antonio and Francis look at him.

"Where you going, Gil?" The usually happy Spaniard asked. Gilbert looked over his shoulder looking straight into Antonio's shocked face before turning back around to hide his now sombre face; he hated these personality changes he had around the Canadian.

"Out." He said in a monotone voice before walking straight through the hallway door, slamming it on his way then giving the front door the same treatment.

Alfred looked to the now shut door before huffing. "What's his problem? It's probably that time of the month for him again." The American turned back around and carried on picking out small bits of change from the jar and making a small pile to the side. Matthew was scooping the eggs and bacon from the pan and putting them on a plate before grabbing some toast and putting them on as well. He picked the large plate up before putting it into the middle of the table. Antonio and Francis looked at him questioningly as he untied the stained beige apron and hanging it on a hook on the door. Alfred looked at him as well.

"Where you going bro?" He asked as Matthew slipped on his boots that were in front of the back door.

Matthew looked up at the American; Matthew's eyes were filled with guilt. "I'm going to go after Gilbert." He said quietly. The soft spoken boy was obviously feeling guilty. It was sad really, Matthew looked up to the German as someone like another older brother or a close friend, but Gilbert obviously wanted more from him. He grabbed his scarf that had been next to his boots, it was a scarf that Alfred had given him for Christmas a few days ago, joking about not wanting him to get a cold. The blonde boy started striding towards the door to the hallway whilst tying the beige scarf around his neck. Alfred heard the front door close with a quiet bang. The room was enveloped in a thick awkward atmosphere, Alfred, Francis and Antonio not knowing what to say. The American boy sped up in his rummaging, pulling up random coins.

"Antonio, can you go get my jacket from my room?" Alfred asked, turning to face the brunette with a sheepish smile. The Spaniard smiled back happily; glad to have an excuse to leave. Even he, who was apparently unable to read the atmosphere, had been able to read it. Alfred pushed the coins into his palm and turning around to face the Frenchman. Francis had one of his elbows on the table, his chin resting in his palm. The older boy was looking at Alfred out of the corner of his eye, his lips were pulled down into a frown.

"You know he likes him, don't you?" Francis broke eye contact after speaking, choosing instead to look out of the window above the sink. Alfred looked at him a moment before looking out of the window as well. It was still dark out but a little light was beginning to crack through the dark clouds.

"Yeah, I know. Mattie doesn't like him though." Both men carried on looking out of the window until Antonio quietly came back into the room, Alfred's leather brown bomber jacket in his hands. The green eyed boy smiled at Alfred before holding out the jacket. The American thanked him before slipping it on and putting the money into one of the pockets. He walked out into the hallway, slipping on his slippers before slipping out of the front door, closing it gently behind him. He stood on the door step a moment, looking out towards the rows of houses that were topped with snow. It was really thick this year; he could feel the cold water soaking through his slippers. Alfred honestly regretted going out in his night clothes but a glass of milk would really help him wake up. The blonde's teeth began to chatter against each other in a feeble attempt to warm himself up. His legs felt like they were going to fall off, he really should have put on a pair of pants instead of going out in the middle of winter in a pair of shorts. How had he managed to survive winters up until now in only a tank top and a pair of shorts? He stood on the stone steps for another moment until the quiet chime of the milk float coming up the street could be heard. He looked to his left and over the wrought iron fence, Kiku sat in the driver's seat of the milk float. Alfred brightened up immediately; Kiku was his best friend whom he hadn't seen in a while. He was tackling so many jobs for his large family, but that was pretty much the story for everyone living around here. Alfred walked down the stairs carefully to try and avoid slipping on the ice. Kiku moved the float to the path. The Asian boy was red in the face from having to drive the vehicle. It wasn't powered by a motor and instead was more like a bike styled to look like a car. Kiku stepped out from inside, he was wearing his casual clothes because a uniform was too expensive. Alfred moved to stand in front of him. The black haired Japanese boy smiled at him, the blush from having to drive the float around fading.

"Hi Alfred, come to buy some milk?" Kiku moved to the side, where the several cartons of milk were stored. Several other people were coming out into the streets now to get milk. Alfred smiled at him and nodded. Kiku moved the plastic curtain to the side revealing several crates of milk. A small queue of several people started to form behind Alfred, each waiting to buy from the Japanese boy.

"So how much would it be for two bottles of milk?" Alfred asked whilst pulling the cold coins from his warm pocket. Kiku looked away from the taller boy with a frown and downcast eyes.

"The price has gone up again, sorry Alfred. It's five fifty now…" The brown eyed boy was obviously very uncomfortable to be the one to bring the bad news to the people. They hated it when prices were put up to help pay for the vastly growing British empire. A few groans chorused from behind Alfred and several people complaining about not being able to afford it. Alfred was counting the several silver coins in his palm trying to calculate whether he had the right amount. He looked back up to Kiku with a sad expression.

"I only have four seventy. Mattie's going to have my hide if I don't get any more milk…" Alfred looked panicked and had his head in his hand out of stress. Kiku looked at the boy slightly guilty. The people behind him had thinned down slightly and they were all too busy talking to notice them. The brown eyed boy grabbed two glass milk bottles and passed it to Alfred with a sly smirk.

"Just give me what you have Al. I'll take the last bit off my pay check." Kiku said in Alfred's ear as if he was telling the best secret in the world. Alfred looked behind him then back at the smaller boy with a smirk as well, he hated to have to use Kiku's money because he was poor as well but he had been the one to offer.

"Thanks Kiku saved me you have." Alfred gave his thanks in an overly hard smack to the back, which made the petite boy stumble forwards. Alfred could hear sounds coming from within the milk float, he looked inside to see the other side of the curtain moving slightly and the several stacks of crates shifting slightly. It took Alfred a few moments for his mind to notice what was going on. He hurriedly tapped Kiku on his shoulder hard and pointed at the other side begging the other boy to notice as well. The petite boy turned around with a confused expression before he noticed what was going on, his usually hard to read face becoming shocked.

"H-Hey! What are you doing back there!" Alfred had never heard the Japanese boy raise his voice before, but it was like an unspoken rule that nobody steals from each other around here. They helped each other along rather. A squeak came from the other side of the cart and the sound of the person trying to pull a crate away quickly. The American was pulled by an angry Kiku to the other side, a small blonde boy was holding a small crate to himself, and his green eyes were wide like a deer in headlights.

The green eyed boy was dressed like a rich person, but the clothes he was wearing were cut revealing bruised and cut skin underneath, his face had small soot stains on it and his hair was dirty. It took the thief a minute for his mind to catch up with his body before he mumbled out a quiet 'fuck' before running away, the plastic crate in hands. Kiku looked on scared, occasionally looking to the side to silently beg Alfred to chase after him as he couldn't leave the cart and wouldn't be able to catch up in it.

The blue eyed boy caught his look and nodded to him before chasing after the green eyed male. Kiku looked on in shock, his attention only being brought back by the people still waiting for their milk. The Asian boy passed people their milk and took the payment his head elsewhere. The boss would fire him if any of the milk got stolen, but he couldn't help but worry for the boy. He had looked like he hadn't eaten in days and was covered in bruises and dirt. Even if he should be feeling angry he couldn't help but feel slightly worried.

"Honestly, he should have had to pay like the rest of us."

Kiku looked up to the brown eyed girl looking at him with a smile. "Maria." He smiled back at her making the brunette smile wider. "Come for the milk? You can have it free. I'll take this one off my check." The tanned girl looked taken aback a moment before she smiled again at him. She took the offered glass of milk from the boy and slipped it into her bag. "I'll see you when you get home, Kiku." The girl kissed him on the cheek before turning and walking in the direction Alfred had gone. She looked over her shoulder and waved to the blushing boy who waved back slightly before going back to serving people.

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><p>"Hey! Stop!"<p>

Arthur could hear the boy shouting not far behind him, the heavy crate was slowing him down slightly but he was still managing to outrun the other boy. The prince (could he really call himself that anymore? He had ran away and with how things turned out, he was actually starting to regret it) was no longer paying the ice mind; too busy trying to find a place where the taller boy wouldn't be able to find him. Arthur's breath was coming out in ragged short breaths and the houses he passed went by in a blur but the blonde wouldn't drop pursuit. The green eyed male cut sharply down an alley, dodging the black bags filled with rubbish and the random bits that had spilled on the floor. The ice was a lot thicker down the alley; no one uses it so they didn't think that grit was worth using on it. Arthur had to quickly stop himself before he could trip several times.

"Hey!"

The blonde chanced a look over his shoulder to see the taller boy not even a metre behind him. _Fuck! _Arthur tried to will his legs to move faster, long periods of time without using them much had made him feel rusty and now of all times he regretted not using them as much. Stealing the milk had been a spur of the moment thing, it had been a month since he had run away from the castle, Christmas had already passed and he had barely eaten anything. The unguarded milk float had literally been begging for him to steal from it. He had been caught in several fights after being attempted to be mugged on several occasions as people tried to steal his bag, the bag which was now painfully slapping against the back of his thighs that were screaming out for a break. Arthur was too caught up in his thoughts to see the pile of rubbish in front of him, his foot caught on one of the black bags as his hands flew out in front of him to stop the fall which made the plastic crate and several bottles inside fly from his hands. Arthur crashed forwards as he heard the tell-tale sound of glass smashing. The last Arthur could feel was a searing pain in his head after hitting it off the ice and a warmth on his forehead that soon went cold from the ice before his vision went black.

* * *

><p>Alfred had stopped just at the right moment to avoid falling over the fallen boy, which he considered pretty lucky since everyone called him a major klutz. The boy on the floor wasn't moving which made Alfred's hero instincts kick in unconsciously.<p>

"Hey, are you okay?" Alfred asked, he kneeled down at the side of the blonde boy and shuck his shoulder gently. The boy let out a pained groan which made the American release him immediately. The blonde bit his lip, he hated to admit but he actually felt scared that he might have hurt the thief. He hadn't wanted to do that, maybe get the milk back and give him a harsh telling off but…  
>Alfred stepped over the boy and over to the milk crate that was a little further up the alley, a growing puddle of white now surrounding the green plastic box. He tuned it the right way up to see that four of the glasses had been smashed, a small amount of milk still inside the small amount of the remaining glass. Two of the bottles had been spared though. With a sigh the blue eyed boy picked them up then moved back over to the other blonde who still hadn't moved. He was still laid with his face in the ice so Alfred turned him over to get a better look. He was knocked clean out and his face was stuck in a pained expression with his eyes shut tightly and lips set in a grimace. Above his (rather big) eyebrows was a cut that ran up to his hairline. By now, Alfred couldn't feel the icy winds biting into his bare legs. He carefully shrugged his jacket off and placed it to the floor gently to avoid smashing the two glasses in his pocket. Alfred pulled the ripped bed shirt over his head, holding it as he quickly put the brown leather back on. He knelt down and wiped at the blood that was dripping out of the cut, the blonde tied the piece around the other boys head to stop the bleeding before putting the other two bottles of milk in his pocket then slinging him over his shoulder with care. He took the bag that was hanging around the pale boy's neck awkwardly and carefully putting him over his shoulder and the bag over the other before walking back to Kiku<p>

* * *

><p>"Alfred!"<p>

Kiku had waited for the blonde to come back, in case he had managed to catch the thief. He looked at the unconscious body on Alfred's shoulder before looking back into the American's blue eyes.

"Kiku." Alfred said with a little smile, the boy on his shoulder wasn't exactly heavy but he also wasn't the lightest thing he had ever carried. "I only managed to get one of them, sorry." The blue eyed male scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and looked away with a little blush on his face.

The Asian boy looked up at him with a small smile; Alfred could tell it was forced though.  
>"Not, it's okay. I'll just hope boss doesn't notice…" Kiku looked to his milk float with a sad expression after speaking. "How is he anyway?" He looked back up to Alfred who looked confused until he pointed to the unconscious boy slung over his shoulder.<p>

"Oh, him? He's fine… Probably. Just cut his head." Alfred grinned widely and grabbed one of the milk bottles from his pocket before passing it over. "Better be on my way then! Everyone's probably wondering where I am." The American knew that they probably wouldn't be worried, he just hated lying to his best friend so wanted to get away as fast as he could before the black haired boy noticed. "I'll be going then Kiku, bye~!" Alfred turned around and waved one last time before walking casually back to the semi-detached house.

Kiku looked at his best friends back before noticing the extra bottle of milk in the blonde's jacket pockets. He couldn't help but crack a smile, Alfred was too nice to strangers. Even the ones that others would probably be mean to if they were in the situation he was. The Japanese boy climbed back into his milk cart to go deliver milk to the next streets that were probably waiting.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I got really bored whilst writing this -_- it's almost midnight, in England of course. I'm tired as fuck. Sorry this is so boring, I got really bored and… Yeah. If you got it this far, well done. I can be boring and this just felt overly dragged out -_- but I'm trying to make it better. I really am. Any mistakes? Sorry. As I said. I'm very tired.**

**Maria = Philippines (Sorry, I ship Pirihon.)**

**I really need to choose a single band/ artist to listen to. Listening to Dragonforce, asking Alexandria, Kerli, soilwork and Origa is never a good idea when you're easily influenced by music.  
>Maybe another chapter some day after mine and Sea-kun's birthday, unless the tosspot known as school decides to interfere, which it always does.<strong>


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